


Friction

by satsukimomoi



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: F/M, Friendship/Love, Light Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-14 13:14:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5745202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satsukimomoi/pseuds/satsukimomoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>She is something that he cannot predict, and he's finding more and more that he doesn't want to.</i><br/>The journey they took to find each other, and themselves.<br/>Takes place during the Winter Cup.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mercy

**Author's Note:**

> Since this story is written in English, I will be omitting honorifics from the characters’ dialogue (“Dai-chan” will be “Dai,” “Tetsu-kun” will be “Tetsu,” etc). Nicknames like “Mukkun,” “Midorin,” and “Kagamin” will be written as they are spoken. If you are unsure of Momoi’s form of address in a particular spot, let me know!

### 

Ch. 1: Mercy

_[ Text from Akashi, 10:28: I hope you are well. It’s been a while, and I would like to speak with my former teammates again. Please attend. ]_

She knew better than to take it as a request, although the nostalgia of being summoned for old time’s sake gave an oddly sweet aftertaste to the bitterness left by his glacial message. She tucked a strand of rosy hair behind her ear, and the hand holding her cell phone began to shake as it fell to her side. Momoi closed her eyes until she was sure her mascara had glued her eyelashes together-- and took a deep breath.

In hindsight, being able to take things at face value would have made her life _so_ much easier, and for a moment, she cursed her superhuman intuition with another pensive exhale. A team reunion for old time’s sake was so simple, basketball was so simple-- boys were so simple. But here she stood, the last lifeline holding her team of simple, prodigal boys together. She was the weight keeping them from being taken with the wind like leaves, and a text message had glazed her palms with a cold sweat.

She had a bad feeling about this.

* * *

_[ Text from Akashi, 10:31: I have asked the rest of the team members to assemble directly outside the stadium. You may join them there. ]_

Outside, the wind felt clean and crisp, and she even liked smelling the metallic tang of competition that clung to the air around the stadium. It reminded her of simpler times and simpler basketball. She could almost envision the sparks of excitement that once lit up Aomine’s cobalt blue eyes. Her reverie dissolved and was replaced by the tangible image in front of her of eyes that were clouded and stern, but her heart hadn’t sunk just yet.

“Your phone is _annoying_ , Kise. Is it Akashi?”

“It’s… _a text from a fangirl_.”

“Go die!”

She savored every moment of playful banter, and this one could not have been more perfectly timed. For a moment, her stomach unknotted, and her hands weren’t trembling like they had just been bitten by an arctic wind. 

She would make the simple time last for as long as she could, and she put forth all the weight of her courage and determination into a bubbly “TETSU!!!!!”

She threw her arms around Kuroko’s shoulders and gave a hearty squeeze, waiting perhaps a second too long to release him from her vice grip.

“I can’t breathe, Momoi,” he said calmly, and his voice would have been even, had it not been strained by a sudden shortage of oxygen.

She undid the knot her arms had formed around his waist and smoothed out the wrinkles she had made in his jacket, messily concealing her slight disappointment. She found comfort in holding them. She liked trying to cover up the heavy space that had splintered her team apart like cheap wood. And until she could wrack her brain of all its data and wisdom and power to find the glue to put them back together, just holding them in her arms would have to suffice.

“It’s been a while, everyone,” she offered with genuine warmth. 

“Momocchi!”

Murasakibara would have greeted her had he not been preoccupied with a mouthful of chips.

Her fuchsia gaze scanned each pair of richly colored eyes, all of which drew her towards them like gravity. After a tug of Murasakibara’s jacket and peck on his cheek, a cheerful nod to Midorima (for she knew that was all he would be able to handle), and a classically Kise embrace, she found herself halfway to the top of the steps leading to the main lobby. Standing behind Aomine, her small hands instinctively rested atop his broad shoulders; they fit there in a way that no one would ever be able to comprehend. 

Her eyes then fell upon Furihata pitifully attempting to guard Kuroko, his thin form stiffening more and more with each passing second. She was surprised she couldn’t feel the quake of his trembling from where she was standing. She said nothing, opting to simply smile and offer him a nod. Drawing too much attention to him would frighten him even more, and she currently had others to care for.

For the sake of appearance and conversation, she looked around inquisitively and asked, “Akashi isn’t here?” dismissing her intuition that had already alerted her of his fashionable tardiness before she even left the locker room.

Kise groaned, though Momoi detected more eagerness than irritation. “Why’s the guy who summoned us here the last to arrive?”

“There’s no need to be upset,” Midorima interjected as he adjusted his glasses, ignoring that they were already perfectly situated on his nose.

His following observation was one that had already been on her mind, and, with eerie synchronization, they both ultimately stated, “That’s how he is.”

Her line of sight shot downward, and suddenly the pattern of the bricks under her feet had her complete attention-- briefly. A calm, collected voice approached grandly from behind her, and the whirlwind of thoughts that had been cascading through her mind was replaced with an entirely new one.

“I apologize that I’ve kept you waiting.”

She turned completely to face him and bore past his curtain of crimson bangs to meet his eyes with her own. One could be forgiven for forgetting that she was looking up at him, for the determined fire that lit up her eyes was impossible to look down upon. However, what could have been mistaken for a challenge was buffed by the joy of her smile.

“Welcome back, Akashi.”

* * *

Akashi’s intense feline stare was cold and met the others with a commanding grace that held them firmly underneath the heavy, metallic air. It flitted from each pair of eyes to the next before softening and adhering to Momoi’s own powerful gaze. He lifted his chin slightly and nodded, a silent acknowledgement that her place was at his side, not his feet. Flecks of gold and red shone and tugged her closer, one step at a time, and as out-of-place as she felt standing above her teammates, all of their eyes on her made her feel like she belonged there.

She turned to face them, but her eyes had adhered completely to his. She found reassurance in them, in the trust that softened his eyes when he looked at her. A window of cold golden steel had made them all so fearful that his warm scarlet fire had almost been forgotten, and for a moment, a pang of guilt jolted up her spine. 

He brushed a strand of loose hair from her shoulder to make room for his hand and began,

“Satsuki,” he turned to face the rest of his congregation, “Daiki, Ryouta, Shintarou, Atsushi, and-- Tetsuya.

“I’m glad to see you all again. I’m deeply moved that we were all able to meet like this. However...there’s someone here who doesn’t belong.”

Her eyes had already snapped to where Furihata was standing before the observation had been made, and seeing how furiously his knees shook made her regret the height at which she stood above him.

“I wish to speak only to my former teammates right now,” Akashi said. “Sorry, but could you leave?”

It was a direct order veiled by courtesy, and when his fear locked his ankles and planted his feet to the pavement, Momoi took a step forward.

“Furihata, I can take you back to the locker rooms! I’m sure you and your team want to prepare before our game today,” she was about to take another step forward, but a hand closed around hers and held her in place ever so gently. She turned back to find that Akashi’s glance was once again focused on her alone.

“I called this meeting for the Generation of Miracles, and I hoped to speak with all of my teammates. That would require your presence here, Satsuki.”

His voice was hard and commanding but was betrayed by a genuine longing for her to remain at his side. He knew better than to keep her where she was by force, and she knew better than to refuse him. His eyes remained intently on her until--

“Well, you’re no fun! Don’t exclude us.”

Her eyes parted from his and turned to face Kagami towering over both of his teammates, his powerful, sunkissed hand on Furihata’s shoulder.

“Kagami…”

“Kagami!” Furihata sputtered, his voice mixed with both surprise and inconcealable relief.

“I’m back,” Kagami’s voice momentarily lost all bravado and spoke soothingly to the bundle of frazzled nerves looking up at him. Momoi couldn’t help but smile. 

“We can talk later. First…” he took a confident stride forward and faced Akashi with wild, challenging eyes. “You’re Akashi, right? Glad to meet you.”

The air became heavy, almost unbreathable, and Akashi stepped forward towards the stairs, letting go of Momoi’s hand. He had been holding it so gently that she had forgotten it was there. His focus shifted to Midorima, and he began to make his way down the stairs towards him.

“Shintarou, could I borrow those scissors?”

She could feel her heart beating in her throat.

“What are you going to use them for?”

“My hair is annoying me-- I’ve been meaning to trim it.”

He reached for the scissors until Momoi mirrored his action and closed her hand around his, her petite frame suddenly in between him and Midorima. She turned to look up and Midorima and smiled.

“Here, Midorin, give them to me!” she snatched the scissors from his unsuspecting hand and gritted her teeth through her smile and sunny voice, keeping her eyes locked firmly on his. It was a silent warning that he was wise enough to heed, and any words of protest were bitten back.

She turned back to Akashi and released his hand from her own, adjusting the scissors in a firm grip. She reached up with her now free hand until her fingers were behind his bangs, her knuckles resting slightly above his eyebrows, and her eyes remained on his forehead. She had glanced for a moment at his face softened with the look of a surprised kitten, and she decided that distractions weren’t welcome when she had scissors so close to his eyes. She brought his hair forward slightly until it was no longer touching his nose and trimmed carefully, before stopping to brush off the strands that had fallen onto his cheeks.

“One time, I tried trimming my bangs by myself in middle school, and I ended up cutting a big chunk of my hair off because Aomine bumped my shoulder.”

Aomine, of course, interjected, “It’s not my fault you’re clumsy, Satsuki!”

She rolled her eyes and huffed, but her smile widened, and after a final snip, she brushed through what was left of Akashi’s bangs with her fingers. She turned, stuffed the scissors into the pocket of Midorima’s jacket, and turned back to dust off one last strand of hair from the bridge of Akashi’s nose. Perhaps a bit too softly, since he crinkled it and rubbed out the tickle with his finger.

Before he could speak or question her, she took his hand back and said, “It’s a lot safer to have someone else cut your hair for you. Having scissors too close to your eyes can be dangerous,” this time, she gave his hand a squeeze and stared with unwavering focus into his eyes, now completely visible. Her smile remained but was weakened by a quiver in her lip that she couldn’t bite back. She could only hide it, so she turned away to face Kagami and asked, “Kagami, can you _please_ take Furihata back to the locker rooms?”

Akashi stepped forward until he stood slightly ahead of Momoi and said, “You’re Kagami, correct?” his voice was icy and sharply contrasted to the warmth of the hand she was still holding. “I assume you realize that Satsuki has shown you a great deal of mercy. In light of her display of grace, I’ll forgive you this time. However, there will be no second chance. When I tell you to leave, _leave_.

“In this world, winning is everything. Winners are _affirmed_ completely,” he matched the squeeze of her hand, “and losers are _denied_ completely. I have never lost at anything, and I never will-- because I always win, and I am always right. I show no mercy to those who oppose me.”

Kagami stood heavily, his hands balled into fists, and, though untouched, a glance into Akashi’s eyes had made the air so suffocating that his knees were close to crumbling like loose gravel.

Akashi’s shoulders relaxed, and he turned back to face the group’s grave silence. His free hand rose to rest atop Momoi’s, which still clung to his other hand tightly. He rubbed the top of her palm with the pad of his thumb and said nonchalantly, “Well, I’m leaving,” before releasing it altogether. “I just wanted to say hello to everyone today.”

As he walked back up the stairs, Aomine burst up from his seat on one of the steps, “ _What_? Don’t be ridiculous, Akashi! You summoned us just for _that_?”

“Aomine...” Momoi began to scold, but Akashi answered without hesitation.

“No. I actually wanted to confirm something, but after seeing your faces, I realized there was no need,” he stopped for a moment and turned back to face all of them. “No one has forgotten our promise.

“Everything’s fine, then. The next time we meet will be on the court,” the words hung around them as he walked away supremely, and every shoulder felt strained under the air’s extreme weight.

She began to step forward to follow him but changed her mind, Instead, she hooked her fingers around Aomine’s arm and dragged him along with her as she walked away.

Next time would be on the court, but not for her.


	2. Hope

### 

Ch. 2: Hope

_[ Text to GROUPCHAT, 11:04: I’m glad we could all meet again and catch up~! Let’s do it again sometime! ]_

_[ Text to Tetsu, 11:04: Can you meet me by the locker rooms before warmup? It’s important. ]_

_[ Text to Takao, 11:05: I need Midorin by the locker rooms ASAP. Thanks. ]_

“You could have just texted me, you know.”

“I had to be sure you would come.”

Midorima was usually quite skilled at feigning irritation and nonchalance, but Momoi didn’t have to look up from her sneakers to sense the worried imbalance in his voice. She felt guilty for forcing urgency onto anyone, but his and Kuroko’s lack of hesitation to oblige her had made each breath a bit easier. In hindsight, she felt even more guilty for doubting them.

“Midorima, Momoi--” Kuroko approached with his usual stealth and spoke calmly, though even he struggled to keep his fingers from twiddling furiously. “Are the others coming?”

Momoi continued to bob her leg back and forth until she imagined there would be a scuff mark left on the floor from her shoes. She kept her hands pressed between her back and the wall, forcing them to remain still, and exhaled as evenly as she could.

“No, I just asked you and Midorin to come. I didn’t think there was anyone better to talk to about this.”

Midorima raised an eyebrow behind his bangs, “Why me?” He tried his best not to sound genuinely interested, but she couldn’t help but enjoy the fact that he felt slightly honored.

She finally broke her focus from the floor and faced them fully. “You’ve always been the person Akashi is closest to, and I trust you.”

“This is about Akashi?” Kuroko’s baby blue eyes glazed momentarily.

Midorima interjected, “This is about what happened outside.”

She brought her hands in front of her and closed them to keep from fidgeting, “Nothing happened outside. I’m just speaking generally, and I haven’t been able to find a good time to really talk.”

Kuroko placed a warm hand atop her head and patted it sweetly, disheveling her satin pink hair only slightly. “You can tell us, Momoi.”

* * *

_The perpetual flurries of blossom petals did a great deal to soften the pressure that seemed to weigh on Teiko’s campus at any given moment. She’d sometimes catch him watching them fall through the window with a hint of a smile on his face, and that made her appreciate them more. He didn’t watch the petals as much anymore, though. The glimmer that warmed his fiery eyes was still there, but it had been dulled by something she couldn’t quite place. But as much as she wanted to wrack the fact-filled recesses of her brain to chase a shadow, she couldn’t bring herself to put anything above her duty to contribute to the team. With that in mind, she tapped the point of her pen slightly harder on the flurry of notes and data that littered their shared desk._

_He was eerily quiet today, and she had assumed that he was merely worried about Shuuzou again, but his eyes were glazed and icy, and he seemed uncharacteristically numb. She had never classified him as someone who was prone to spacing out, but she reached for him anyway in case he needed to be snapped out of something. Just before her hand could close over his, he broke the silence he had hung in the air._

_“I shouldn’t keep you here for so long every day.”_

_She raised a puzzled eyebrow and scoffed. “Where did_ that _come from? I like being here. I want to help.”_

_“You are. I can confidently assume that you have every piece of data on this desk memorized without even trying,” he still didn’t look at her, but he smiled._

_She drew herself back slightly, “So?”_

_“It seems unfair to make you re-analyze everything, no?”_

_“No.”_

_Her voice was slightly harsher than she had hoped, and he finally looked up at her. She thought he’d be used to her willingness to challenge him, but seeing him try to conceal his surprise tickled her, and being able to soften those glacial eyes gave her comfort._

_“Pardon me,” he said evenly. “I simply meant that it might be selfish to keep you to myself as I do. I imagine you had to turn down an ice cream invitation to stay behind.”_

_“Spending time together is a lot more fun when it’s all seven of us. Besides, helping the team comes first.”_

_He smiled again, but it was heavier. “You’re right, of course. Whatever it takes to secure victory.”_

_His hand was now squeezed between both of hers, and she had leaned forward in her chair, her eyes blazing with concern and desperation and something else that he couldn’t describe._

_“This isn’t about victory,” she swallowed back a hiccup in her voice. “It’s so that we can all be together forever and play for as long as we can. I wouldn’t waste my time for something as small as racking up_ victories _when I have friends that I want to spend the rest of my life with.”_

_Surprise had overcome his face and body, and he sat completely still, silent and stunned. She withdrew back into her chair, slightly embarrassed by her outburst, and amended it as best she could._

_“I’m sorry. I know victory is important to you, and it is to all of us, don’t get me wrong. But, we’re-- you’re all so strong already. You can afford to focus more on being together and less on winning, because it already comes naturally to you.”_

_Before she could release his hand, he had placed his other over hers. His gaze was now immovable from hers, and his frosted expression melted as he smiled at her._

_“Why don’t you see if you can catch up to the rest of the team at the ice cream shop? I’ll finish up here and meet you there shortly.”_

_Though phrased as a suggestion, he had delicately given her an order, and he squeezed her hands one final time before releasing her to collect her things._

_“Okay. Text me when you’re almost there so I know that you’ve left school safely.”_

_She stood quietly, slung her bookbag over her shoulder, and stole another glance at the mist of pink petals outside before walking away. Just as she was sliding the door open to leave…_

_“Oh, and Satsuki?”_

_She turned._

_“Thank you for your hard work today.”_

_“Uh… sure…”_

_He raised an eyebrow at her puzzled expression. “What is it?”_

_“It’s nothing. I’ve just never heard you call me ‘Satsuki’ before.”_

_“Oh-- Forgive me.”_

_She smiled again. “There’s nothing to forgive. I like it.”_

* * *

“A personality disorder?”

She nodded. “Split personality or dissociative identity disorder.”

“It could be an extreme conclusion to draw from different forms of address and a colder attitude.”

“It’s not just that,” the moments she had let slide by before still haunted her, and she couldn’t bring herself to speak of them again. “He hasn’t gotten an official diagnosis, but he has too much going on right now. I don’t want to take him to a doctor yet and end up making things worse. Even so, this is just my intuition, and I’ve done some analysis on it, but I could be wrong.”

Midorima held his chin and appeared to be sharply in thought, until the idea of her intuition being wrong inspired a momentary scoff. His trust had always been given so scarcely, and it had never occurred to her that it may have been because he placed so much of it in _her_. She knew he trusted her notes and her data and all of the things that were _definite_. But she just had a _feeling_ , and there was still that thread of uncertainty left unstitched-- yet his leafy green eyes sparkled and sang of faith and complete trust, and she allowed herself a moment of pride.

_Midorin really has grown a lot._

Kuroko was grim, his lips pressed into a thin white line. They held back years of baggage that was too heavy for his small shoulders, and his sky blue eyes were dimmed with patches of stormy grey. “I’m truly sorry, Momoi. I should have realized sooner.”

She shook her head vigorously, “All of you have been dealing with so much on your own. If anything, I’m more at fault here, since it’s my job to take care of you.”

“When was that decided?” the slight indignant puff in Midorima’s chest at the idea of being taken care of made her giggle, though her brows were still slightly furrowed, and a sadness weighed her smile.

“Never mind. Telling someone made me feel better, anyway. I’d just like to ask one favor.”

Both pairs of eyes were both fixed on her, a reminder that those who surrounded her were trustworthy. The way they looked at her lifted some of the weight from her smile and the stiffness from her shoulders, and she took a moment to be grateful for it.

“I don’t have a clear solution in mind, and I don’t think there’s going to be one. It’s not like there’s a switch that can be turned on and off, and it’s unfair to expect him to accommodate for us or think that he needs to be fixed. But talking him through it might help him be a bit more at ease.

“I couldn’t help him deal with the pressure he was under, and I don’t think he even knows how much it’s affecting him, which might explain his getting triggered. Midorin, you’re someone who knows Akashi better than most. Maybe if you--”

He cut her off immediately, “No.”

She winced as if her cheek had been cut with a knife, and Kuroko intervened, his voice heavy and distressed at the sight of her misty eyes. “Midorima…” he began.

But Midorima spoke over again, “Momoi, you seem to be implying that Akashi is in need of guidance. But guidance, in fact, will not _truly_ reach him unless it is coming from someone whom he views as his equal. There are only a few someones like that, perhaps just _one_ , and only _that_ someone can give him the advice you say he needs. It’s unfortunate, but that someone isn’t me.”

Kuroko’s eyes widened and sparkled once again with waves of soft blue, as if to signal a sudden revelation. The corners of his lips curved upward into a knowing smile, and his focus followed Midorima’s to where Momoi was standing. 

She, however, still had one foot in the dark. Before she could question him, however… 

“I’ve been trying for as long as I can remember to beat Akashi at anything, and I’ve only come remotely close because I copied _your_ notes and trusted your gut at every turn. There’s only one person who is on par with him.” 

Kuroko nodded and smiled at her tenderly. “I agree with Midorima. Momoi should be the one to talk to Akashi.” 

“Tetsu…” 

Her jaw hung so slackly that she thought something was pulling it to the floor, and her mind buzzed and whirred with a reverie that she only snapped out of when Midorima began walking away. 

“Anyway, you have a game to be preparing for. It won’t be worth watching if you’re not focused, and you won’t be forgiven if you let yourself get distracted.” 

She said nothing in response, but smiled a smile that she knew he would see even as he had his back turned to her. He was making a quick escape before she got too sentimental, but he was also wishing her good luck. 

“Thank you, Midorin.” 

She almost instinctively stepped forward, but she felt the faint glow of his smile, and it was enough. 

Once they were alone, Kuroko turned back around to face her, still smiling. The whirlwind of thoughts that knotted and tangled and ricocheted through her mind still left a slight darkness in the pink of her eyes. She threw her arms around his waist and buried her face in the fabric of his jacket, as if to search for whatever glimmers of comfort she could find. 

Kuroko rested one hand atop her head and the other gently on the small of her back-- so gently that she could have mistaken his touch for that of a ghost. To her surprise, she didn’t need him to hold her to remain strong enough to stand, and she had a feeling that he was aware of it. 

“Akashi knows that you care about him,” he said, “and he admires you very much, Momoi. He would be disappointed if you didn’t give your all during a game. Let’s head back-- Aomine and your team need you.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback, questions, and comments are always welcome and appreciated!


End file.
